The Queen of Chaos, the Servant of Insanity
by Mor de interficio silvam
Summary: What if Minerva was a lion Animagus? What if Animagus could talk in their animal form? What if Sinistra was older and a lot more funny? What if Mclaggen got his act together before Harry got to school? What if Peter did not end up with the Weasleys, but with Neville? What if Draco was even more of an idiot? PHxHP... and yes, the Mirror of Erised is a character. Full Arc Sum. inside


**Arc One: A Lioness is a Lioness Through and Through**

**Chapter One: Sinistra's Commentary**

* * *

QUESTION:

Why was the Potter house "nearly destroyed?" All Voldemort did was break down the doors, right?

* * *

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER IN ANY SUCH MANNER OR WAY.

* * *

Notices:

1. No pairings

2. May or may not be a crossover

3. Slow updates

4. Sinistra's OOC (out-of-character) and is not particularly fond of Dumbledore. She does not want to work at Hogwarts but Hogwarts was the only school in Scotland and England which had a astronomy post open.

* * *

Summary: What if Minerva was a lion Animagus? What if Animagus could talk in their animal form? What if Sinistra was older and a lot more funny? What if Mclaggen got his act together before Harry got to school? What if Peter did not end up with the Weasleys, but with Neville? What if Draco was even more of an idiot? What if Dumbledore retired early? What if Harry grew up to be a happy-go-lucky child who always found the greatest treasure in the little things in life? What if Hogwarts not only taught a school, but also raised an army?

* * *

"..." -Speaking

_italics_ -Thoughts

**bold** -Animagus speaking

* * *

Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was currently in her Animagus form, a snow white cat with gray paws and gray markings on her back (terribly clashing with her African complexion). For the whole day, the poor professor had been watching the terribly perfect house of Number 4 Privet Drive, on Dumbledore's orders, of course (Sinistra's thoughts: _Who else would be crazy to send a cat to spy on some muggles_?)

If Sinistra's opinion of the Dursleys was complete and utter disgust. When Sinistra first arrived, the man, one Vernon Dursley, she believed, had the guts to glare at her and tell more to move! And when she hadn't, he tried to knock her off the fence! Her! She had been doing nothing more than sitting on a brick wall innocently and immaculately as any other neighborhood cat!

...okay, so she was sitting on his property and might have caused him to begin to question his by silently and wandlessly conjuring up a map and then banished it in front of the guy, but that was besides the point. Besides, don't those muggles know how _hard_ it is to navigate through their of-so-large neighborhoods and such? At least, in Britain, the wizarding residencies were simple enough to get through.

Anyways, Sinistra quickly jumped off the guy's fence and went to hide in some bushes before waiting until the crazy cat-hating man left before going to sit in the shrubs near to the living room door.

After some time, that pencil-lady, Petunia (Sinistra's thoughts: _Petunia. _Petunia_? Seriously? Don't muggles have more sense in naming_?) went out with her infant, though it really depended on your perspective (Sinistra's thoughts: _Wait... she's going out with a beach ball in a stroller? ...Oh, no wait, that's a boy... Oh _God_, IT'S A BOY_!). Deciding that she had nothing better to do, she followed the twosome down to the general store where Petunia (Sinistra: _What were her parents THINKING?! Do they want all of us to die from hearing that gruesome name_?) bought some candy. The child, apparently had gone crazy over the lack of sugary treats and was now attempting to kick his mother, a failing effort seeing as he could not even pull out of the seat belt strap his mother had put around him. (Sinistra's thoughts: _I'm starting to think the whole family's crazy_...)

After an hour or so, the pair had got back home, Dudley having been cured of his craziness (Sinistra's thoughts: _For _now_, anyways... can never tell when the crazies will come back_...). Petunia was attempting to teach Dudley new words, a venture had largely failed as the only words Dudley learned were "Shan't" and "won't," but, of course, Petunia just had to lose her title as the most sane of the Dursley family and begin crying tears of joy while hugging her son to death and lying to him about how proud she was of him for learning such big, grown-up words (Sinistra thoughts: _Though, with the way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if she actually believed that_).

Bored of sitting outside in the cold, Sinistra went into the house through the open bathroom window. The rest of the afternoon was spent making Dudley upset by making weird faces at the two-year-old and using magic to misplace all of Mrs. Dursley's (Sinistra's thoughts: _Not much better, but still_) cookbooks and ingredients with wandless magic (Sinistra's thoughts: _Because the ministry is so stupid so as not to realized that their magic detectors only worked in the case of wands_). She was careful, however, not to be seen by the woman. The last thing Sinistra neede was a screeching Harpy screaming like hell in her face.

However, like all good things, the fun had to stop when the fat man decided it was high time he got home. When Petunia went to greet her husband in the living room, Sinistra ran from her hiding spot from under the sink and to the kitchen back door. She used a simple unlocking charm to get out, not bothering to lock it again (Sinistra's thoughts: _Maybe the draft will cause them to catch a cold_.)

Swiftly making her way to the living room window, which Mrs. Dursley probably forgot to close (Sinistra's thoughts: _Yay~! They'll all catch a cold_!), Sinistra began eavesdropping on the Dursley family's conversation, which was mostly focused on drills, as the family ate supper. Apparently they had decided they were all too fat or lazy to actually eat in the livingroom. Dudley had a tantrum and threw his broccoli and peas at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as Ms. Dursley began cleaning Dudley's messy face.

Bored, Sinistra decided to take a short nap. When she woke up again, it was 10:25. Yawning, Sinistra stretched her stiff limbs. and peered into the window. Mr. Dursley was the only one there, watching the news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley appeared to be broken.

Soon Ms. Dursley came in with two cups of tea. Mr. Dursley cleared his throat and asked nervously, "Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry at the question. (Sinistra's thoughts: _Huh, they probably didn't like pencil-lady's sister_).

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."

(Sinistra's thoughts: _"Her crowd?" They probably meant wizards._)

As casually as he could, he asked "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

(Sinistra's thoughts: _..._[_Witch_])

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed.

"Shooting stars, owls, funny-looking people and crowds?" Sinistra asked herself, talking aloud for the first time that day. "Interesting... Seems like I've missed something major. Albus better fill me in when he comes... which won't be in another one and a half hours. Great. Just GREAT. What am I supposed to do now?"

* * *

*One and a half hour later*

A man apparated on the corner Sinistra had been watching.

She twitched her tail and narrowed her eyes in irritation. Nothing like this man could have ever been seen on Privet Drive, Sinistra believed. He was tall, thin, very old, and had a long beard, which was long enough to be tucked into his belt, which, thankfully was not.

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. _Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuun_.

Apparently Albus didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome, proving yet again to Sinistra that his blindness did not limit to his fashion and color sense.

Right now he was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he must have noticed her since he immediately looked towards Sinistra, who was seriously considering clawing his eyes out for leaving her at this boring neighborhood one. Whole. Freaking. Day. Hungry. HUNGRY! For some reason, Albus seemed amused to see her. _Crazy bat_. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a Deluminator. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again and the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Deluminator, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were Sinistra's golden eyes watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Deluminator back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor Sinistra."

He turned to smile at the cat-now-turned-professor, who was a rather pissed off young woman who seemed to be ready to tear the man limb from limb with her bare hands. She, too, was wearing a cloak, only it was a blood red color, going nicely with her dark complexion. her dark blue eyes. Her long black hair was drawn into straight dreadlocks down her back. She looked distinctly tired and hungry

"How did you know it was me?" she asked. "For all you know, you could have been talking to a stray cat."

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you had to stay with these buffoons for a day," said Professor Sinistra, grumpily.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Sinistra growled. "Of course I've been standing here all day! You're the-" _bastard_ "-one who told me to stay here all day without moving to watch some stupid, half-brained muggles all day long!"

"...My apologies." Dumbledore said, but Sinistra continued on.

"And if it wasn't for this favor I oh so suddenly owed you, I would be in the middle of it! Do you know how long it had been that I had a good enough occasion to take out some good quality wine? I've heard all about those owls and shooting stars, by the way. I really hate you and Dedalus Diggle right now. He beat me to the fireworks!" (1)

"Well, you really can't blame him," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor Sinistra irritably. "But that's besides the point. The point is that someone released fireworks so noticeable muggles put it on their newspaper. _and_. _it_. _wasn't_. _me_. I also think saw some wizards on the streets near the park in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors, though I didn't stay long to find out, though I did here something about You-know-who kicking the bucket." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something. "I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A lemon what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"Yes, thank you," said Professor Sinistra, accepting about ten of the lemon drops he held out for her. "I haven't ate anything all day." She removed the wrapper and put one in her mouth. "Hm, tasty. As I said, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

Professor Sinistra flinched a little, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor Sinistra, sounding amused. "You're different. Everyone knows you're the only one Vo-Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too 'noble' to use them." _Which is a lie. You would use any means to get what you want_.

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor Sinistra gagged at that. "_Not_ something I really needed to know, but okay..."

There was a short silence as the two continued chewing their Sherbert Lemons.

"So... do you know why Voldemort disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer immediately.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor Sinistra gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.

"I really don't want to..."

"Yes, I know..."

"I really, REALLY don't want to believe this..."

"...Are you alright, Professor?"

"Albus answer me and answer me truthfully. So you're saying that Dedalus and practically most of the wizarding world is having a PARTY because two people DIED?! HAS THE WIZARDING WORLD FINALLY GONE INSANE?!"

"No, Aurora, that's not-"

"Oh, GOD, now I understand why my family never liked Britons. They have no common sense! This is a DEATH ANNIVERSARY and we're CELEBRATING IT?! What was my aunt thinking coming to the British Isles? Why couldn't I have stayed in Australia? (2) Why-?"

"Sinistra, Voldemort was killed yesterday by a one-year-old," Dumbledore said, interupting.

Sinistra stopped her tirade and turned to face him with wide eyes. "A baby? A baby managed to destroy him? Seriously?! Oh, wait, no, Sirius isn't here right now, but _really_?" (3)

Dumbledore nodded glumly. "His name is Harry Potter, Lily and James' son."

"It's — it's true?" faltered Sinistra. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a ONE-YEAR-OLD? It would be hilarious if the subject wasn't so serious... but how did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Sinistra narrowed her eyes at him. "...Liar. You're a 140 years old. You're _supposed_ to now everything."

Dumbledore sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you Sinistra, I'm simply a man-"

"Whose 140 years old."

"-who can make mistakes like any other."

"...Alright, if you say so." _For now_... (4) "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why we're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

Sinistra stared at him. "Have you finally lost your marbles? You want Harry to live HERE?! With these good-for-nothing muggles?!" Sinistra cried. She pointed accusingly at the door. "I've been watching those idiots all day, and, I swear to you, you couldn't find two people who are any less like us wizards. They've got this ball- I mean son— I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here! The wizarding world will never survive!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

"NO, I can't. So what if he grows up spoiled? At least he'll be happy! It's not as if ol' snake face will come back anytime soon to finish what he started!"

Dumbledore didn't meet her eyes.

"... You're KIDDING me, right?" Sinistra deadpanned, and a red tick mark could almost be seen on the back of her head.

"I won't change my decision," Dumbledore stated forcibly. "It's better for Harry to be safe than to be happy."

"And it's better to be free than to be trapped," Sinistra said with just as much force.

But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?"

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

Hagrid then got off. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

_Sirius? Was he at the Potter's house? Poor him, having to see his friends' dead bodies... I should stop thinking like this. I'll get nightmares_.

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Sinistra bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead there was a lightning bolt scar.

"Is that where —?" Sinistra asked

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't-" _Again, you can't decide things like this on your own_! Sinistra thought, angrily. "-Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground-"

"-Wait, what now? Really? Where did you get it? Do you think I could get one on my arm?" Sinistra asked excitedly.

"I'll tell you where I got it done tomorrow. Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Hush, Hagrid," Sinistra said. "I know you're upset and all, but _please _try to be quieter! The last thing we need is a bunch of muggles waking up."

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, already, God dammit!"

Sinistra pated Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle. Hagrid's shoulders were shaking. The twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

Sinistra did not cry, knowing very well that she won't start crying after at least having downed 20 bottles of wine.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Whoa, there, Albus. We're going to leave a child out on a doorstep in NOVEMBER to go to a PARTY?! HAVE you gone insane?!"

"No, I have not-"

""But you just said it!"

"Yeah, anyways" said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor Sinistra — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor Sinistra," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor Sinistra sniffed.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Professor. In fact, I think I'll go back to Hogwarts and enjoy some of Minerva's single malt wine. Scots always do have the best wine, in my opinion."

"As you wish."

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Deluminator. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he and Hagrid was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Sinistra looked at the toddler as he Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up.

One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"

"This is really not up for you to decide, Dumbledore," Sinistra said gently to one in particular. "What's the point of being safe if you aren't happy? What's the point of living if you don't have any reason to be alive?"

* * *

Notes:

(1) Albus is allowing Sinistra to act rude because he knows she is tired from staying awake for nearly 48 hours. She usually is respectable to the headmaster, but right now she just isn't in the mood

(2) Her parents are from Africa but moved to Australia when Aurora was born. She later moved to Britain with her Aunt, Maribel Sinistra, on her father's side after her parents were eaten alive by manticores that had escaped from the local magical zoo.

(3) She was five years ahead of Sirius and his friends. She was a teacher's apprentice during the marauders fifth year at Hogwarts.

(4) She's in shock just in case you're wondering why she isn't crying. People have different ways to respond to these types of situations.


End file.
